“ok, everybody. it’s that time of year,” said my science teacher, mr. beal. “this friday we’ll have the annual egg drop challenge.”
    a couple of my classmates groaned, but no one was at all surprised. mr. beal’s fifth-grade egg drop challenge was an institution at my school. the goal of the challenge was simple—you had to build a protective container to keep an egg from breaking when dropped over the stadium wall.
    “bring your containers to class on friday,” mr. beal said. “by the way, this year we’re going to try something different. you can work alone or with a partner.”
    my best friend, cassie, and i grinned at each other. we always worked on projects together. she’s brainy; i’m creative. we’re the perfect combination. like peanut butter and marshmallow cream.(which happens to be my favorite kind of sandwich.)
    i made my favorite sandwich that afternoon while waiting for cassie to come over and work on the container. spreading the fluffy marshmallow cream gave me an idea.
    “i have a brilliant design for our egg container!” i said when cassie arrived.
    “what?” cassie asked eagerly.
    “we can cushion it with some marshmallow cream.”
    “huh?”
    “you know, to absorb the shock of the impact,” i explained.
    “you’ve got to be kidding, laura.”
    “you have a better idea?”
    cassie pointed to a sketch in her notebook. “actually, i do. we put the egg in a basket with parachute attached. it will simply float to safety.”
    “it’s too easy for something to go wrong. it will never work!” i said.
    “and marshmallow cream will?” cassie rolled her eyes. “the parachute is better than that stupid idea.”
    i couldn’t believe it. of course we’d had our little fights in the past, but this was different. she’d never called any of my ideas “stupid” before.
    “oh, yeah?” i said.
    “yeah!”
    “then i’ll build mine and you build yours, and we’ll just see whose is better.”
    “fine!” cassie shoved her notebook into her backpack and stormed out.
    and just like that, our friendship was smashed. like an egg dropped from the top of a stadium without marshmallow cream to protect it.
    when friday finally rolled around, i had to admit that cassie’s egg force one looked pretty good. she had used a handkerchief to create a small parachute. it was tied to a basket that held styrofoam packing peanuts and, in the center of it all, her egg.
    my egg-cellent egg cream didn’t look quite so scientific. i had lined the sides and bottom of a small box with rice cakes. then i’d added a layer of marshmallow cream, the egg, and a layer of jell-o.
    this is how the competition worked: all the students in my class carried their egg containers up three stadium steps and dropped them over the side wall. if your egg broke, you were out. if the egg survived, you had to walk up three more steps and drop it again. this went on until the last egg broke.
    by the fourth launch, only cassie and i were left.
    “ok,” mr. beal yelled. “let’ em go on the count of three.”
    “good luck, laura,” cassie said, turning to me. “you’re going to need it.”
    i didn’t respond. i figured winning would be sweeter revenge.
    the class called, “one, two, three!” i let go of my box.
    “ew,” i heard someone say after a minute. had my egg broken? i raced down the steps, trying to get to the bottom before cassie did.
     the side walk was already dotted with egg shells from previous failed drops. i finally found my brave little egg-cellent egg cream. i didn’t even have to open the box to see the results. yolk and egg white mixed with yellow jell-o seeped from the corner.
    “that looks like egg drop soup, laura,” cassie said. she was holding her egg force one. my heart raced. had she won? i looked at her basket. empty.
    “my egg bounced out,” she explained, pointing to a broken shell in the grass.
    “i guess the pilot had an egg-jector seat,” i offered.
    cassie looked at me, and her glare softened. i could see it in the corners of her eyes. she was trying not to smile. i grinned. she giggled.
    “egg-jector seat,” she said.
    “egg drop soup,” i said, laughing until i had tears in my eyes.
    “a tie,” mr. beal said, shaking his head.
    but cassie and i knew we’d won something more important than the egg drop challenge. some friendships aren’t like eggs after all. they can survive a little bouncing.

　　“好了，同学们。又到了每年的这个时候，”我的理科老师比尔说道，“本周五我们将举行一年一度的摔蛋挑战赛。”
　　听完这话，几个同学发出了抱怨声，不过大家一点儿也不感到惊讶。在我们学校，比尔老师组织的五年级摔蛋挑战赛已经成为一项由来已久的赛事。这项挑战赛的目标很简单——你得为一枚鸡蛋制作一个容器，以保护鸡蛋从体育场的墙上落下来时不会被摔碎。
　　“周五把你们做好的容器带到班上来。”比尔老师说，”哦，对了，今年我们将尝试改变一下规则。你们可以自己独立完成，也可以找个搭档合作。”
　　我和我最要好的朋友卡西相视而笑。我们俩总是一块做各种课题。她博学多才，我创意非凡。我们俩珠联璧合，就像是花生酱与棉花糖霜。(这碰巧是我最爱吃的那种味道的三明治。)
　　
　　于是那天下午，我一边等着卡西来和我一起制作容器，一边做好我最爱吃的那种口味的三明治。在往三明治上涂抹松软的棉花糖霜时，我脑袋里蹦出了一个主意。
　　“我想到了一个绝妙的鸡蛋容器设计！”卡西一到我家，我便对她说道。
　　“是什么？”卡西急切地问道。
　　“我们可以用棉花糖霜为它做个衬垫。”
　　
　　“哈？”
　　“你知道的，这可以吸收撞击所产生的震动。”我解释着。
　　“劳拉，你一定是在开玩笑。”
　　“你有更好的主意吗？”
　　卡西指着她笔记本上的一张草图说：“不错，我确实有。我们可以把鸡蛋放进一个系有降落伞的篮子里。这样它便能安全地降落了。”
　　“这样太容易出错了。绝对行不通！”我说。
　　“用棉花糖霜就行得通？”卡西冲我翻了翻白眼。“降落伞比那个蠢主意好多了。”
　　
　　我简直不敢相信自己的耳朵。诚然，过去我们也曾有过一些争吵和摩擦，但是这次却有所不同。以前她从未把我的任何主意称作”蠢主意”。
　　“哦，是吗？”我说。
　　“没错！”
　　“那好，我做我的，你做你的，等着瞧到底谁的容器更好。”
　　“很好！”卡西把她的笔记本胡乱塞进书包，怒气冲冲地走了。
　　就这样，我们的友谊破碎了。仿佛一枚没有棉花糖霜保护的鸡蛋，从体育场顶部坠落下来。
　　
　　终于又到了周五，我不得不承认卡西的“蛋军一号”看起来相当不错。她用一块手帕做了一个小降落伞。降落伞系在篮子上，篮子里装有用泡沫塑料包裹着的花生，在篮子的中心放着她的鸡蛋。
　　
　　而我的“蛋霜之王”看上去就没那么有科学性。我先用米糕将一个小盒子里的四边和底部垫好。然后铺上一层棉花糖霜，再放入鸡蛋，最后加上一层吉露果冻。
　　
　　比赛是这样进行的：班里的所有同学拿着自己的鸡蛋容器在体育场里向上走三层台阶，然后让它们从边墙下落下来。如果你的鸡蛋碎了，你就出局了。如果鸡蛋完好无损，你就必须再向上走三层台阶，再次让鸡蛋落下。直到最后一个鸡蛋破碎，比赛才会结束。
　　
　　比赛进行到第四轮时，只剩下我和卡西了。
　　“好，”比尔老师高声喊道。“数到三，然后放手。”
　　“劳拉，祝你好运。”卡西转向我说道。“这回你可得碰运气了。”
　　我没有回答。我认为赢得胜利将会是更痛快的复仇。
　　全班同学喊着：“一，二，三！”我松开了手中的盒子。
　　“哎唷。”随即我听到有人发出这种声音。我的鸡蛋碎了吗？我冲下台阶，想赶在卡西之前到达地面。
　　边墙下的走道已经星星点点地布满了前几轮比赛中摔碎的鸡蛋壳。我终于找到了我那枚小小的勇敢的“蛋霜之王”。我甚至没有必要打开盒子来检查结果。蛋黄和蛋清混合着黄色的果冻从盒角渗了出来。
　　
　　“劳拉，那看上去像蛋花汤。”卡西说。她正握着她的“蛋军一号”。我的心在狂跳。她赢了吗？我看了看她的篮子。是空的。
　　
　　“我的鸡蛋弹出去了。”她指着草丛里破碎的蛋壳解释着。
　　“我猜这位飞行员有把‘蛋射座椅’。”我接着她的话说道。
　　卡西看着我，我可以从她的眼角看出，她的目光渐渐柔和下来。她想忍住不笑。我咧着嘴笑了。她也咯咯地笑了起来。
　　
　　“蛋射座椅。”她说。
　　“蛋花汤。”我边说边笑着，直到泪水充满了双眼。
　　“平局。”比尔老师摇了摇头说。
　　但我和卡西深知我们赢得了比摔蛋挑战赛更重要的东西。某些友谊绝对不像鸡蛋一样。它们不会因为小矛盾而破碎。